Getting up and moving on
by SunsetWanderer
Summary: Mystique was shattered by Erik's betrayal. It would be her and him against the world, he had told her once. These are the steps she took to overcome it. Old faces arise and Mystique begins to think that perhaps, it wasn't so shattering after all. Mystique/Azazel. Set during 'The Last Stand'.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Raven Darkholme was lost. Unbelievably, inexplicably and irrevocably lost.

Here, walking through the carpet-clad hallway of the hotel she would reside in, with her room keys clinking softly in her hand, those feelings only served to intensify more. The woman who used to call herself Mystique had no idea where to go, or what to do. Her thoughts were jumbled, skirting around and through her head like sandflies. Any form of coherent though couldn't be formed. Raven's mind was still frozen in a state of absolute shock. But she wasn't just feeling lost mentally, no, physically as well. She had felt nothing but disgust as that 'cure' swept through her and left her writhing in white-hot agony on the cold metal floor of the prison truck.

What made it worse that Erik, Pyro, and the ones who called themselves Juggernaut and Multiple Man were forced to watch. Raven could still feel it being absorbed by the marrow in her bones, coursing through her veins; and her own cells responding to the savage antibody. And then she was made to watch in sheer terror as her blue skin lost its tint, and began to turn into normal, peachy, _human_ skin; as her rough scales receded into her skin; and as her short, fiery hair lengthened and turned to strands of black. She was burning up in front of everyone.

It was her fierce loyalty to Magneto (Um, Erik) that had driven her to jump in front of the dying man wielding the gene suppressor in the first place. It was the same loyalty that had drawn her to Erik's side on the sunny shores of Cuba, decades earlier. It was the same loyalty that had kept her by his side though all of those years, taking his orders and fighting for his cause. And finally, for the first time, when Mystique asked for him to reciprocate that loyalty, Erik didn't deliver. He looked down on her with distaste, and left her behind, shutting her out of the brotherhood forever.

_"I'm sorry my dear, you are no longer one of us..."_

_"Such a shame. She was so beautiful." _

Mystique, now Raven, could wield firearms or blades like no one else. She could fight like a lioness with a fury unmatched by any other. But as a human, she possessed no use to Erik and his precious team of Brotherhood mutants. It was only as a shape shifter or other mutant Erik would take her. She meant nothing to him the way she was now. And when she realised this, anger and betrayal of the deepest kind had flowed through her, hot and intense.

She had watched Erik leave, despair apparent on her face. She was almost desperate for him to turn around and take the hand she was still holding out for him. He didn't come back. She sat in the quiet, empty truck, on the cold floor, hugging her knees to her chest and shivering. She saw a dead policeman next to her and without thinking pulled him closer to her and stripped him of his uniform, then clothing herself in them. She stood up and staggered out of the truck, her head still spinning from the cure injection. She spotted a car that had swerved to the side of the road, still intact.

The two men behind the windscreen had clambered out in an attempt to stop Magneto. They were now laying two feet away from Raven's feet, and absolutely dead. Finding the key still in the ignition, she started up the car and pulled out of the ditch the car had been standing in and out onto the road. She had to leave quickly, the rational part of her brain told her, because it wouldn't be long for the CIA to arrive.

She had driven to the closest city, and gone to the nearest hotel with available rooms and booked one for a night with the vast amounts of funds Erik had charged her credit card with. She now walked through the hotel's hallway on the third, looking for her room. She opened the door and closed it after entering, and sunk to the ground. She buried her head in her hands and broke down all of the dams that had held her together on the way to her hotel.

For the first time in decades, Raven 'Mystique' Darkholme cried. She cried for the pain Erik had caused her, cried for everything she had to endure because of him and cried for the betrayal Erik had vested upon her. She had always thought it would be her and Erik against humanity, fighting endlessly for the mutant rights.

In that respect, he and Charles had been the same. The same goal, but fighting it in different ways. Charles had always believed it could be achieved in diplomacy, whilst Erik had believed the only way to go, was war. But Raven had only been a pawn on his chessboard; a piece of game. He had only really needed her to clean up his mess and kill his targets. If Erik had truly cared for her, even a little bit, he would have taken her hand and helped her.

When her tears ceased to come, Raven made her way over to the small adjoining bathroom. She looked at herself in the mirror that hung above the sink. Her black hair hung dishevelled and in drabs, framing her pale and puffy cheeks. Her eyes were red and bloodshot, and Raven wondered when the last time was that she had had a good night's worth of sleep.

This body felt alien to her. Every body she shifted into felt strange and foreign to her. She only felt, for a lack of a better term, normal, when she was in her own blue skin. This skin was too fragile, too soft to withstand any type of hard pressure. This body lacked the tough pattern that her scales created. This human body lacked mutation. The senses were duller, and Raven found it difficult to adjust to the change.

She gripped the sides of the basin until her knuckles turned white and tightly shut her eyes. She sought out where she knew her mutation once lay, where she was able to tap in and out of it every time she wanted to shift into somebody else. She tapped, forced herself, rather, into that part of her brain. But something was holding her back; something prevented her from entering that part of her DNA. She strained harder, fighting against the fog that concealed that part of her make up from her.

A drop of sweat formulated on her forehead and made a silver trail as it slid down her face. It dripped off of the end of her nose and into the basin. She groaned and fought against the headache that was building in her mind. She was now throwing everything she had out onto the line; every part of her psyche was set on trying to shift once more. With one loud groan the headache exploded within her and the straining stopped. Raven opened one eye to see whether it had worked or not.

Not a single blue scale.

She tightly closed her eyes again, fighting now against the nausea that was blooming in the pit of her stomach. She made it four steps out of her bathroom, gripping her head in her hands, before collapsing on the bed, and letting the perpetual darkness of unconsciousness steal her.

_~O~O~_

_Mystique stood in a hallway, looking into a room with two people inside. She wondered why she was standing there, watching the people inside with a sort of frightened curiosity. The room ahead of her shifted dangerously in and out of focus, like a dying cable TV. She walked out into the harsh light, and saw the two men; Magneto and Azazel, bent over a table laid with maps. They were murmuring softly in Russian. Mystique frowned as she realised two things, one; she was wearing her own blue skin, and two; Erik's hair wasn't grey with age. She realised she was dreaming. Dreaming a memory. Upon her arrival both men swivelled around to face her. _

_"Ah, Raven." Erik said, walking forward and wrapping his arms around her neck. Mystique stood frozen, her eyes firmly locked onto Azazel's pale blue ones. She felt something alike to fear flutter in her stomach. Erik stepped away from her and led her over to the maps. Tiny Nazi flags dotted various cities and countries around the world. Mystique frowned, wondering what the little flags meant. Seeing her expression, Erik explained. "These indicate weapon strongholds that house the last of Shaw's followers." He said, indicating the flags with his right hand. Mystique nodded. _

_"So, are we going to break into them or..." she asked, trailing off when she heard a snort to her right. Both she and Erik looked up at Azazel, who was looking at the ground with a hand covering his mouth. When he looked back up, his face was impassive once again. Erik raised an eyebrow, then shrugged and turned back to the maps. "Not just yet. We need to train first, all of us." he instructed, though Mystique was fairly certain her just meant her. _

_"Azazel with teach you in close combat, firearms and Russian. Angel and Janos will teach you Spanish, because it's important to know as many languages you can, Raven. And I will teach you how to drive cars, fly aeroplanes, helicopters, and anything you might need to make a quick getaway. Azazel will start your training today." Erik said, taking on his infamous 'Magneto' voice. The voice he used to instruct everyone, a voice that clearly spoke volumes. Erik Lensherr was not to be toyed with. _

_Mystique gave a resolute sigh. At least she didn't have to deal with Emma. She and the blonde didn't exactly get along. Mystique's eyes settled on Azazel's again, and the fluttering started. Azazel raised an eyebrow, and the dream blotted out. _

* * *

**Hello everyone! As promised, here is the first chapter of Getting Up And Moving On. This story will primarily feature Mystique and the steps she takes to get past Magneto's betrayal after the scene where she takes his 'cure' and as a result is cured herself. **

**If you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask me! I'll respond to every review given. **

**Enjoy!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Raven woke. She opened her eyes and blinked a couple of times. Her head was swimming again. She looked around. She lay splayed across the queen-sized bed, with the covers thrown haphazardly around her. Raven frowned. She'd fallen on the bed when it was made. She had woken up with the covers strewn around her. She couldn't have peeled back the covers and moved to lay under them even under the influence of her dream. _Someone must have put me here, _she thought. Her mind returned to the events that had gotten her in this position, and she swore she could almost feel the headache returning again. But thinking of her failed attempt to shift only added remorse to the ever-growing list of feelings Raven was feeling right now. _So that's it, _she thought, _I truly am human. _And that thought was enough to almost reduce her to tears again. But where would she go now? _I'm not a mutant anymore,_ she told herself, repeating the sentence over and over again, both out loud and in her head. But even if she had been, would she have still been accepted into society, once this dumb war was over? She doubted it. She had committed so many crimes. It wasn't like she hated the things Erik had made her do, because she didn't regret them. No, they had made her stronger, and the person she was today. In a way, she ought to be thankful to Erik and everything he had made her do. That girl from before Cuba was long gone.

Raven sat up and looked around the room. She had been so disoriented that she hadn't taken the time to scope out her room properly. The small, square room looked surprisingly cozy to her. The walls were painted in a warm, darker red. The floors were of a warm, cedar wood, matching perfectly with the colour on the walls. In the idle stood a queen-sized four poster bed made out of the same type of wood sporting a light beige duvet with white sheets, under which she now lay. A door to the left of the bed led into a small bathroom. It was nothing flashy; just tiled walls, and a tiled floor with a toilet, a sink and a shower cubicle.

Raven rose and made her over to the sink. She turned the knob and cold water flowed out of the faucet. She gathered some in her hands and splashed it onto her face. It succeeded in waking her up completely. She closed the tap and leaned forward, so her elbows rested on the sides of the stone sink. She dropped her head in her hands and let out a long sigh. She began to feel sick to her stomach as another feeling rose to the surface. Despair wasn't something she experienced regularly during her days with the brotherhood. This 'cure' had made of her a wreck, both mentally and physically.

But she had to pull herself together. Otherwise she would never make it. She needed the basics; food, transport and clothes. She pulled the dead officer's clothes towards her. The shirt, pants and boots fitted okay, but she figured it would be nice to have some clothes of her own. She showered and dressed, before leaving the room and handing the key to the management down in the lobby. She left the hotel and stepped outside. She breathed in the husky fresh morning air, as her eyes scanned the street for a department store or something along those lines. It felt nice to have something to do for a change. It would take her mind off of the startling reality she wasn't a mutant anymore. She noticed how the people passing her didn't give her weird stares or ran away screaming. But of course, she wasn't blue. She started a brisk walk down the street, as skyscrapers towered over her and cars thundered next to her. Finally, she saw a clothes store open up next to her. She darted inside, buying some simple pairs of jeans, a bunch of shirts, and a duffel bag to put them in.

When in mutant form, she'd always kept her wallet, a small, square thing, concealed under a flap of skin. That way, when she shifted, she would always have it on her. When she was 'cured', the skin receded and dropped the wallet on the ground, squarely under her. She carried it on her now, and vowed to never lose it. The wallet was her doorway to the outside world, whether human, mutant or otherwise. She paid for the clothes and left the store, now looking for a breakfast place of some sort. The closest was a Starbucks, across the road.

She waited for traffic to clear before crossing the road. Her stomach growled as she entered, smells of cooked muffins and roasted coffee beans hitting her nose. She smiled to herself as she sat down in a booth. She and Angel always made the best breakfasts out of all of the brotherhood members. Before she became a decent cook, her first attempts at cooking always ended in disaster, with the kitchen filled with acrid smoke and burnt food. She had always remarked on how it didn't matter about who she shifted into, because her cooking would always remain rubbish. That always had her fellow mutants laughing. Raven clung onto that memory, reminding her of better days.

"Coffee?" she heard a soft, slightly nasal voice say. She looked up and saw a young girl; a waitress holding a notepad. Raven smiled and it felt strange. Forced. "Sure," she said, flipping through a small menu that had been lying on her table. "I'll have a flat white and a full English breakfast, please." She said, handing the menu back to the girl after she finished scribbling Raven's order down. "Thanks," Raven muttered, as the girl walked away, leaving her to her own thoughts again. Breakfast came and went, and when Raven stepped out of Starbucks, she was full and $20 lighter, and all before the hour was through.

Next, she needed transport. When she had been waiting for her food to arrive, and later whilst eating, she had decided that the only real option was Charles. More specifically; his mansion. His school and her former home. Where else could she go? She had no friends; all of them were with the brotherhood, and the brotherhood had disowned her. Her parents were completely out of the picture. They had tried to kill her when she was younger, so she didn't even consider going to them. They were probably dead, too. And even if alive, they would have never wanted her anyway. Her last resort was Charles, and to her shocking realisation she knew it had really been Charles all along. He was, and would always be, her last stand.

Westchester, New York County. That's where she needed to go. She would need to find a dealership, or a place that sold second-hand cars to get there, though. Fortunately for her, there was a Jeep dealership just up the road. Raven entered, and was immediately swarmed by a man that reeked of hair-gel and aftershave. "How can I help you?" he asked, after giving her a lengthy tour of the premises. "Got anything second hand?" she asked. Jeeps were good, Erik had told her, they were sturdy, fast, and covert enough to make them really good long-distance cars. They worked well in any climate, and though big petrol drinkers, were very comfortable. It would be just the car Raven needed.

The salesman, Joseph, she had read on his name tag, took her out back to a parking lot in between buildings. A couple of jeeps were parked there. They didn't look too bad and everything seemed to be in working order. "This one," Raven said, patting the hood of the car she'd just looked at. "Would you want to test-drive it?" Joseph asked. Raven shook her head. "No thanks. How much?" she asked. "$15 000, has seven and a half thousand miles on it, tires are new and it's never been in an accident." Joseph rattled off like a recording. Raven took out her credit card and followed Joseph back into the main building. Half an hour later, she sat in the leather seats, soaking in the feeling of her new car. She loved it. She actually felt in control, for a change, instead of feeling like the cure was controlling her. She waved goodbye to Joseph and his team and turned out onto the road. She followed it all the way out of town.

The road was lengthy, and as minutes began to blend into hours more and more paper cups began to litter the passenger seat beside Raven. She stopped multiple times; once to get a bag with snacks to have while driving, and more that were just toilet breaks. The road seemed endless from Raven's perspective, but driving with the radio turned up and her own thoughts whizzing around her head made the time pass faster. Before she knew it, it read 11:45 PM on the digital clock on the dashboard. She yawned and rubbed her eyes. Seeing the sign for a rest spot up ahead, she drove to it and parked into one of the empty parking bays. She took the key out of the ignition and reclined the seat so she lay down horizontally. She curled up on her side and let out an exhausted breath. She was beyond exhausted; the events from the previous day catching up to her. Her eyes closed fully, and before she knew it; she was asleep.

_~O~O~_

_A large oak tree overlooks a small brook, bubbling as it streams down the hills below the tree. A few metres behind the oak, more trees stand. A blue being, of blue skin and golden eyes sits perched in between the branches, gripping the hilt of a long medieval style knife in her right hand. Her golden eyes peer through the leaves and focus in the ground below. The being does not make a sound. _

_Mystique's breath leaves her mouth in small puffs. The air is slightly frosty but her skin keeps her warm. Her mind whirrs busily under the surface of her skull. She makes mental calculations of the velocity and volume of the air, doing everything to keep her mind busy as she waits. _

_With the sound of imploding air behind her she whirls around and strikes out with a fist. It meets with empty air as her target evades her blow. Another puff of imploding air behind her causes her to whirl around yet again and strike out with her knife arm. Again her target evades and she growls in frustration._

_Taking a wild leap of faith she vaults from the branch she was perched on and jumps to the ground. She lands with a light thud and immediately rolls to the right, where seconds later, another blade alike to hers slams into the ground. Mystique rears up and jumps to her feet, and her blade meets with her adversary's and a loud clang resonates through the space. _

_Her adversary disappears with another puff of crimson smoke, and the smell of sulphur. He appears behind her, and manages to pin her arms behind her back. Mystique twists herself out of her adversary's lock and uses his arms to propel herself over his head and land behind him. She holds her knife to his throat but he twists away and lands a vicious kick in her stomach. _

_Mystique recoils and doubles over, staggering backwards. Her adversary disappears from in front of her and appears again behind her. He grabs onto the back of her arms, at her elbows and spins her around to face him. Mystique's breath catches in her throat. She gives a smirk before moving fluidly to exchange blows with her training partner. _

_The dusts beneath their feet swirls about their ankles as they exchange blows; execute fluid moves and twirl around each other as though through a well-practised dance. Finally the dust rises above their heads and they are no longer distinguishable. The fighting continues. When the dust settles they appear again. The larger male lies on the ground whilst Mystique sits on his chest; blade poised at his throat. _

_She gives a triumphant laugh before rolling off of him. The male stands and brushes the dust off of his bare chest. The corded muscle of his upper body rolls and moves beneath the skin. His entire body has the colour of vivid crimson, almost bright red. His hair has the colour of ebony, and his eyes have the colour of ice. Mystique stands alongside him and hands him the blade he lost somewhere in their exchange. He accepts it and sheathes it. _

_The tiniest of smiles flickers across the male's face. He steps closer to Mystique. He back of his hand caresses the skin and scales of her cheek, where he inspects a wound he had created in the scuffle. His long, nimble fingers move across the skin, and she shivers. Against her will, her hands move to rest on a long wound on his chest; one she created. His crimson blood stains the red skin even more so. Another ghost of a smile appears. It is then that he leans down and captures her lips with his own. _

_Mystique's own fingers move up and grasp onto Azazel's shoulders. Azazel's hands cup her cheeks, covering the blue skin completely with vivid red. The colours of their skins clash as they lose themselves into the moment. All the while, warmth spreads through Mystique's body. Slowly, unwillingly, she allows the dream to disperse. _

* * *

**As promised, chapter two! Ahh, the couple feels are killing me! I'm really quite disappointed the directors didn't cast Azazel for Days of Future Past. Meh. They'll realise they missed out big time later. I hope you're all enjoying the story so far, I've really enjoyed myself writing it ;) **

**Now for review answers! **

**Angeleye;** Thanks for reviewing! Unfortunately, I can't change the pairing because I wrote this story fully before I published it and intended for the pairing to be Azazel/Mystique. But don't let that scare you away! Sometimes it's good to try new things, yeah? ;)

**Anonymous; **Thank you so much! I'm really glad you like the story so far. I daresay it's going to get even better in the next few chapters, so hold on tight :) And I've gotta agree; this fandom needs _way _more Mystique/Azazel fics!

**Don't forget to review, dearies, and I'll see you all again in the five days for chapter three!**

**~SunsetWanderer**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Raven sat up, and rubbed her eyes. Still, the warmth from her dream enveloped her. That was one of her nicer memories. _Azazel,_ her mind murmured with a satisfied purr. She wrapped her arms around herself and bit down on her lip, trying not to let the tears that had risen fall.

She missed Azazel. His warm weight beside her when she slept had become something of a privilege. He was so often away on missions, and so was she. Erik had not been happy when he had found out about their relationship happening behind his back. He feared that it would make both of them weaker. In truth, it only strengthened them.

Erik tried everything in his power to keep them apart; sending them on missions when the other was away, so as to prolong the time they spent together. But they communicated through calls and emails, and every now and then, when Azazel knew of Mystique's location, he would teleport over and sleep with her when she needed him most.

He was a gentle soul, something that his brutish build and cold expression didn't exactly emanate. His hands were capable of breaking flesh and bone, but the calloused palms were so gentle with her when they were together. His chest and arms continued to be a source of comfort for Mystique.

Before the last stand, before she had been turned into Raven, she hadn't seen Azazel for quite some time. As far as she knew, he had been away on a lengthy mission. In the events that followed, she had found herself just too busy to think about him. That didn't take away that he did occupy some small space of her mind almost all of the time.

Like now, as she hurried back to the warmth of her car after washing her face in the small toilet-block, she couldn't think of anybody but him. She started up her car and pulled out of the bay. The heat from the heater filled the space quickly, and as she started to eat the muffin she'd bought the day before she was once again left with her thoughts of Azazel.

Time crawled by slowly as she drove, and like the day before she stopped only every few hours to go to the bathroom or to buy food. She was once again left alone with the music over the radio and her thoughts. Every hour the kilometre count to Westchester county became smaller and smaller. Raven knew that the inevitable meeting wasn't going to be pretty. The X-men despised her.

A small pang of worry bloomed in her stomach and grew as she drove on. When she pulled up in the driveway of Charles' mansion half-an-hour later, that small bloom had turned into gut-wrenching nerves that coiled in her stomach like snakes. She parked the car and closed the door. For the first time the sight of the mansion looming over her didn't ease her nerves. Instead; it only fuelled them.

Her shoes crunched on the gravel walkway that lead up to the front door. The nerves in her stomach intensified. Self-consciously, she rubbed a hand over her arm, yearning to feel the familiar relief of her scales beneath her fingertips. They weren't there. She almost wished Azazel was here with her now to help her.

She took a deep breath and knocked on the door. The knock resonated through the still evening air, and Raven hopped awkwardly from foot to foot as she waited. A minute later, the door opened, revealing Ororo Munroe, better known as Storm. "Hello? May I help you?" She inquired. Raven frowned for a second, until it sank in that Storm didn't recognise her.

"Where is Charles?" Raven demanded, the words slipping out of her mouth before she even realised she'd said them. Storm stared back, and a touch of indignation flickered across her face at Raven's harsh tone. The realisation then hit her, and new understanding dawned and replaced the short look of disbelief. "Mystique?" The woman inquired gently.

Raven froze to the spot. So Ororo _did_ recognise her. She flitted her eyes from Storm's face to look away, suddenly uncomfortable. "Yeah," She replied, sounding crestfallen. "Well, no. It's Raven now. Raven Darkholme." She elaborated quickly, her words tripping over each other.

She was shocked when Storm's face showed nothing but a raw type of understanding that ran deeper than any emotion she had ever felt. Storm frowned. "Come in, Raven. Come in." She said absentmindedly, stepping to the side to allow Raven access. Raven stepped inside the royally decorated foyer, and cold nostalgia seeped into her bones.

Storm led her through the foyer to an adjoining room that looked out over the inner gardens of the mansion, where children walked around and played together, using their mutations and being completely oblivious to the world around them. Raven stood in the middle, taking a seat when Storm offered it to her.

Seconds later, the door opened and a stoic Wolverine stepped inside. His dark eyes flitted from Raven to Ororo's face. He frowned. With one simple sniff he recognised her. His lips lifted in a minute snarl. A scowl appeared on his face and deepened. "Why is she here?" he asked simply, addressing Ororo as if Raven wasn't in the room at all.

Storm sighed. "That's a good question, Logan. Raven?" She asked, turning towards the younger woman. Raven straightened her back. "Where is Charles?" She asked again, averting the question with one of her own. Storm and Logan shared a moment of locked gazes. "Raven, Charles is…" Storm trailed off, unsure of how to continue.

Raven's eyes narrowed, and she frowned. "Where is he?" She asked again, looking at Logan now. Logan returned her questioning gaze with a scowl. He pushed himself off of the wall and opened his mouth. Storm cut him off with a pointed look. "Raven, Charles is dead." Storm said suddenly, and Raven's head snapped around.

"What..." She whispered, and her eyes filled with tears. Disbelief was clearly written across her face. Her emotions ran rampant, unable to discern whether what Storm was telling her was actually true. But as fervently as she searched for any sign of a bluff, she couldn't find it. Storm was telling the truth.

The tears that had been pooling in her eyes dripped onto her cheeks. She shook her head, slowly, uncertainly and unwillingly. She didn't want to believe that Charles was dead. But as she looked away from Storm and Logan her eyes caught something that stood out in the gardens. It was a tombstone, with the name 'Charles Xavier' chiselled into the smooth marble.

Raven pressed a hand to her mouth and bit back the gasp. She looked at Logan, but he stared back defiantly, almost silently condemning her. Almost as if she had killed him. "How?" She questioned, her voice characteristically hard.

Logan's eyes cooled and became harder. "Jean Grey. Phoenix." He explained. Raven narrowed her eyes. "The CIA is tracking her whereabouts now. They want a lead on Magneto, but he's elusive. They can't find him." Storm explained further. Raven turned to look at her, and nodded. Storm looked suddenly weary. "Why are you here, Raven?" She asked.

Raven wiped away the last of her tears. "I don't expect you to trust me," She started, before Logan interrupted her with a crude snort. Raven shot him a glare. "I came here to see whether Charles would take me in again. I doubt it to happen now. But I do want to see Hank, one last time." She said.

Storm leaned back, and nodded. She seemed sure of her standings. Raven knew of them too. In fact, she had been expectant of it. She wouldn't live in the X-mansion again. She wouldn't see her old team-mates anymore. The damage she had caused to each of them while under the influence of Magneto was too much for any of them to forgive. Even though she wanted their forgiveness above nothing else, it wouldn't be given, and she was alright with that.

Storm sent a helpful smile. A small knock on the door snapped them all out of it. Logan crossed the distance between his place against the wall to the door and pulled it open. A small girl with large and tear-filled eyes stared back at them. She clutched a broken arm. Storm immediately rose and made her way over. She spoke quietly with the little girl, before calling Logan over and instructing him to take the small child to the infirmary wing.

Logan and the small girl left, leaving Storm and Raven alone. Storm looked back over the gardens. She looked back to Raven. "Logan will get Hank for you. I need to return to my work. I trust you to stay in this room until Hank arrives. He shouldn't be too long." She said. Raven nodded and her eyes followed the older woman until she left the room. The door closed with a soft click, and the Raven was alone again.

The minutes passed slowly, and Raven's eyes traced over every object in the room multiple times before beginning to tap her foot in boredom. Back when she was still a mutant, she would pass time by trying new disguises; new skins to shift in to. Raven was almost always doing something, that suddenly having nothing to do ate into her. She was terribly bored.

She decided to seek out Hank herself. She didn't care much of the reciprocations, because she wouldn't come back here again. Rising silently, knowing that there weren't any security cameras, because she would have seen them, she made her way over to the door Storm had vanished out of. She opened it and peered into the empty hallway.

She crept out into the empty hallway and closed the door behind her. It swung shut with a soft click. She moved silently through the carpeted wooden hallways, happy to see that her old skills were still with her; no matter whether she was in her blue skin or human. She almost got seen by some kids that were wandering around, but they were quick to pass.

Finally, she could see the door to Hank's lab up ahead. She paused in front of it when she got there, with her hand poised above the wood; ready to knock. A sudden hand on her upper arm caused a small gasp of surprise to escape from her lips. "I thought they told you to wait." The voice was low and baritone, and lilted with an accent.

* * *

**Hello everyone! I'm back, and this time with chapter 3! I hope you all enjoy this chapter, as well as the story so far. Don't hesitate to share some of your thoughts on the story with me through a review or PM, because authors live on them!**

**Feedback is highly encouraged and cherished :)**

**Oh, and please don't kill me because of the cliffhanger ;)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Raven's eyes went wide. She recognised this man. The callouses on his hand felt so familiar to her. His hand fit around her arm like it had been there before. And his voice… She recognised that too. Finally, when she looked to the hand he had placed on her arm and saw it to be of a bright, vivid red, and covered in rough scars, she knew this man completely.

Memories rushed back in a steady stream, flashing in front of her eyes. She turned to the man, slowly, and met his eyes with hers. His hair was still immaculate, his dark suit still crisp, and his blades were still sheathed by his side. Behind him, his tail swished steadily from side to side.

"Azazel?" She whispered, uncertainly, unable to discern whether he recognised her or not. It was probably the latter. The man took a step back, with his eyes gone wide. "Mystique?" He asked, taking his hand from her upper arm and pulling it back. Raven nodded slowly, tears beginning to pool again at seeing her lover again.

Azazel looked uncertain. He didn't know what to think at the moment. He could recognise the woman's voice. He recognised the shape of her face, and the contours of her shoulders. The lines of well-defined muscle; all of that he knew. But her skin was not blue, and her eyes not gold. But when he narrowed his eyes, and imagined the blue skin and golden eyes on her, he could see her again.

His spine stiffened, and he cautiously took another step towards her. His large red hand encased the nape of her neck, and she titled her head up. Her eyelids fluttered closed. The reaction was so purely _her_ that Azazel was overcome by a wave of nostalgia.

His deep voice muttered something undiscernible, and Raven opened her eyes. In that moment, Azazel swore he saw the tiniest flicker of fleeting gold in the swirling blue depths. But there were only blue eyes and black hair. "What has happened to you?" He whispered, broken English twisting the words around. Raven pulled away. "Erik… My mutation…Sacrifice…" Were the only things she could get out of her mouth.

Azazel pieced the words together, and frowned. "They were supressed?" He asked, and Raven could do nothing but nod. Azazel's eyes flitted away when sounds from the hallway behind them intensified. Hank, together with Logan and Storm turned the corner and saw the two. "Azazel?" Storm inquired, but the man looked stoic as ever.

Emotions were raging inside the red mutant's mind. His mate had returned, and he was so confused by her sudden presence that it sent his mind reeling. It was dangerous, he reminisced, to have let someone get _so _close to him. But Mystique had burrowed her way into his heart, and he in turn, burrowed his way into hers.

But her sudden appearance was so startling that Azazel didn't know what to think. The woman he had seen sneaking through the hallways was so distinctly _her_ that it would have been impossible to assume otherwise. But the change in skin, hair and eye colour confused him. She was human. She was no longer mutant. Azazel did not mind.

He had fallen in love with her because of her daring and outspoken personality, of her tenacity and determination when it came to simple or complex tasks she was asked to perform. He loved her for the simple little quirks that made her _his. _None of these things had seemingly changed when he saw her again, after all those months, even years.

Hank stepped forward. "Ah, I see you've found it, then?" He asked, moving his eyes in between Raven and the door she stood next to. Raven nodded. Hank brushed past Storm and opened the door with a key. He opened the door and motioned for Raven to step inside. Azazel motioned for her to step inside. Raven frowned. "Azazel?" she asked.

"Da?" the man responded.

"How long have you been here?"

"Azazel switched his loyalties quite a while ago. Even before all of this began. He has become a valuable team-member." Storm answered for him, standing off to the side. Raven looked over to her, and her frown deepened. "Erik told us, he told _me_ that you were on a mission. I believed him. What were you doing?" She asked, her eyes narrowing. Azazel took a wary step back and lifted his hands in a backing-off gesture.

_"_I told Erik that I would go away on a mission. Erik did not ask. He let me go." Azazel explained. He took a step forward and reached for Raven's arms. "I have trusted you with everything. But this, this I could not tell you. I feared for you." He said. Raven lowered her eyes, still fuming. But her fury subsided, and she turned away from Azazel and walked into Hank's lab.

Raven couldn't believe him. She was happy beyond measure at having Azazel back again. But the truth he hid from her made her bitter. Oh god, he didn't even know he had a son! Kurt had been born when Azazel was away on a long mission, almost the entire length of her pregnancy. He knew of nothing. Nothing of how Kurt was ruthlessly ripped away by members of a touring German circus, and of how Mystique could only watch as her only child was taken away from her.

He knew nothing. He knew nothing of her pain and of her suffering. Nothing of how she had cried herself to sleep on numerous nights, wishing above all that Azazel would come back to her. In the end, he never did. It should have intensified her dislike for her mate, but instead it solidified her resolve in leaving Erik for good. Azazel made an honest choice of good over evil, and Erik was evil, she realised now, and she stood by his choice.

Raven turned around against better will, against a mind that was screaming for her to burrow herself into his toned arms and _just forget_. She wanted to, and desperately, but she refused herself the privilege.

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**Hi! Thanks for reading chapter 4! There's only one to go after this before it's over, so get your reviews in! I really liked this chapter, because Azazel DUH and all these couple feels are killing me. It's such a shame they didn't include Azazel in Days of Future Past. Have any of you seen the trailer yet? One word. INTENSE. **

**Anyways, thanks again for reading and I'll get back to you in five days with the last chapter.**

**Reviews are appreciated...VIRTUAL COOKIES. **


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